


The Golden Rose

by Lolilouunicornempress



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Post, POV Third Person, Sexual Content, Violence, oH MY GOD !
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 05:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11822259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolilouunicornempress/pseuds/Lolilouunicornempress
Summary: “You are arrogant, assassin.” She smirked. “And you will fail like most of your brother.” She jumps on her feet and started walking away. “Anyway, I need to go. The young ones needs me.”His hand grabbed her wrist and tugged her against him. His arm snaked around her hips keeping her press against his chest. She squealed and squirmed, ready to bite if necessary. He leaned toward her face and stopped only when his breath tickled her ear. She paused.“I’m not like my brothers.” He murmured and she took a shaky breath. “I’m much better. So be prepared.” She met his mesmerizing amber gaze and found herself unable to speak. His eyes weren’t full of desires like the others assassins, they were full of promises.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's my first post ! I really hope you will like it!  
> By the way, English is not my maternal language (I'm French ! ) so I apologise for any errors.  
> Enjoy !

She was by far the most beautiful and exotic woman in Masyaf’s garden. Piercing brown eyes, fair skin and dirty blond hair have proved to catch attention. But her exoticism also proved to scare assassins away -she was not complaining-. Her voluptuous body only hidden by a red dress instilled desire in every man's heart and Altaïr was not an exception.

But she was the most infuriating woman too. As Al Mualim’s favourite, Sania has the privilege to choose who she wishes to bed and she absolutely abuses it. It almost seemed like she took great pleasure in turning men down. If Altaïr recalled correctly, she had only slept with seven assassin - they all boasted about it during weeks- since she has been here.

She has been brought back four years ago.

Now, it wouldn’t have bother Altaïr more than usually. He would just bed another courtesan if his primals needs urged him to do so. It shouldn’t have bother him. But he just learned that she, the infamous Golden Rose of Masyaf, let Abbas kissed her and he wouldn’t shut up about it. Moreover, Abbas took great joy in rubbing it in his face. It was his way to tell him that he accomplished something that Altaïr did not: it was a challenge.

And Altaïr never back down from a challenge.

Lain on a pile of pillow in the garden, Sania was successfully ignoring the young assassin in front of her, he would understand soon enough that she wasn’t interested. Her eyes were fixed on the words that so beautifully creates sentences and forced her to devour the book with an alarming speed. Philosophy had always had this effect on her. “You can read French ?”. The question startled her. The voice was different, deeper, more confident, and did not belong to the teen that was in front of her minutes ago.

“It would seem so.” She sighed. She merely glanced at him before she did a double take. He was not the usual assassin who try and fail to capture her attention, he was wearing the Master Assassin’s robe. And that caught her attention. She memorized her page before closing the book, shifting her whole attention on the assassin. Altaïr smirked.

“And what a Master Assassin is doing in front of me when he surely have better thing to do ?” She enquired, a part of her already knowing the answer.

“Obviously, I’m here to bed you.”

 _He is a cocky one. And he does not bother with frivolities._ She observed.

A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Well, that’s disappointing.” She stated. “What make you so sure that you will have your way ? Besides you seem to forget that I choose who I bed.” He took one step forward.

“But you will choose me Golden Rose.” She scoffed.

“You are arrogant, assassin.” She smirked. “And you will fail like most of your brother.” She jumped on her feet and started walking away. “Anyway, I need to go. The young ones needs me.”

His hand grabbed her wrist and tugged her against him. His arm snaked around her hips keeping her press against his chest. She squealed and squirmed, ready to bite if necessary. He leaned toward her face and stopped only when his breath tickled her ear. She paused.

“I’m not like my brothers.” He murmured and she took a shaky breath. “I’m much better. So be prepared.” She met his mesmerizing amber gaze and she found herself unable to speak. His eyes weren’t full of desires like the others assassins, they were full of promises. She almost choked on her own breath.

And he leaved her.

He was half way out of the garden when she came back to herself. “What’s your name ?” She loudly asked. He stopped his long stride and turned his hand. She vaguely noticed his smirk.

“Altaïr.” He just said. A shiver ran down her spine as she watched him leave the garden.

“Altaïr.” She slowly repeated. And then she smiled. _Now this is interesting. Let see what you can do, Altair._

She fully understood that Altair was different from the other men the very next day. He, in contrary of the other assassins, didn’t try to coax her with gift or pretty words. In fact, he didn’t talk at all. He just stared, observe her like a prey from afar. The first few days, she managed quite easily to ignore him. But as time pass, she became more and more aware of him: she noticed when he arrives, when he leaves and when he does not come -he had missions after all-. And it unnerved her. No man was supposed to have this kind of effect. She was the one who got this power. Something needed to be down. So she decided to stop ignoring him and just stared right back at him. It seemed to be what he was waiting for because the next day he was sitting silently next to her. His presence around her seemed to discourage the others men. Was it because of his status ? She could only guess.

It took her two other days before she finally gave up and spoke. “So… Is that your plan ? Watching me until I snap and surrender ? I’ve known better.” She glanced up only to see the same god damn smirk on his face. It irked her.

“And yet it work.” He smartly responded. She raised an eyebrow in answer. “You're not ignoring me anymore.”

“Oh… So you think that watching me like a prey will open the door of my bedroom ?”

“Who says that I'll bed you in a bedroom ?” She gasped, utterly at loss of words and he just kept smirking. It took her at least two minutes before she managed to say something.

“And who says that you'll bed me at all ? Certainly not me.” He turned his head, watching the others courtesans dancing and flirting with the assassin before focusing on his target.

He would have stop pursuing her a long time ago -in his eyes she was only troubles- but there was a fire in her eyes and defiance in her expression that begs to be tamed. And it kept drawing him toward her.

“Perhaps not now but soon you will want it.” She scoffed as she watched him leaving.

“I will see you tomorrow I suppose.” She stopped him.

“No.” He stated, matters of factly. “I have a mission.” He paused. “Why ? Already missing me ?” And he leaved.

She tried really hard to suppress a smile. She didn’t mind talking with him. He was arrogant but his confidence in the way he talk or walk was refreshing. It annoyed and unnerved her a bit but it was a good change from the stuttering -from the young assassins- and the annoying show-off -from the older ones-. Perhaps they could discuss next time. And if he keeps entertaining her, she might just kiss him.

But then the Solomon Temple fiasco happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the chapter 2 !  
> I hope Altaïr stay true to himself! Anyway, it is my interpretation.  
> Enjoy !

A happy chap, Altaïr was not. At least, not at the moment.

It was late, the shadows embraced the sky, stars were shining brightly, the moon was glowing beautifully and Altaïr was watching this peaceful moment from his apartment’s window. The outside was noiseless and calm and this absence of sound brought back his inner peace. In fact, it had become a habit of his when he had too much on his mind. Watching the stars has always managed to put his clever mind at ease, that or going to the highest point in Masyaf to perform leaps of faith.

But yet, it did not help him this evening. There was too many things on his mind.

Despise his master’s explanation, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Talal truly believed in what he had done. He couldn’t force himself in believing that Talal had lied, not when his eyes sparkled with so much sincerity -or at least, with as much sincerity as a slaver can have-. No, Talal really thought what he did was right. And it disturbed Altaïr. How can someone who has enslaved people, who brought them pain and despair can thinks that he did it for the greater good ? Only mad people can thinks though. But yet, he didn’t appear as mad. 

There was also the fact that Talal mentioned a Brotherhood. What sort of Brotherhood ? Were they a threat that needed to be eliminated ? How much were they ? Where ?

His head was spinning with questions and Al Mualim wasn’t able to satisfy his curiosity, it seems. Or was he ? Perhaps Altaïr shoul-

He froze. 

Light footstep stopped right in front of his door. He waited a few seconds and hearing that the person didn’t move away, he quietly lurked in the shadows. He watched as the doorknob slowly went down and the door was pushed open. A hooded shadow slipped inside his room. The person wasn’t really sneaky, he noted. Altaïr waited until he reached his grasp before ramming him into the wall, hidden blade against his throat, ready to strike. 

What he didn’t expect was the feeling of curves against his body, the strangled cry followed by a feminine curse. He ripped off the hood and step back, surprised. The moon lighted the room enough for him to recognize the face. What the-

“What are you doing here ?” He hissed at her. In front of him was one of his many others problems: the Golden Rose, Sania.

“God dammit.” She cursed. “You could have been gentler.” She rubbed her head in attempt to ease the pain she felt when her head met with an unforgiving force the wall. “It hurt.”

He tightly grabbed her arm.

“Answer the question.” He growled, tightening his grip. She winced before stammering :

“I- I wanted to ask a question. L-let me go ! You're hurting me !”

He relaxed his grip, not ready to release yet.

“You couldn’t wait until the morning ?” 

He was not happy with the situation. He had hoped for a quiet evening after all and here he was, with the least expected person three weeks after their last meeting in his room. A part of him thought that it would take him more effort to get her here and yet she came to him on her own accord. 

What a plot twist. 

“Obviously, no.” After a slight tightening of his grip, she added. “It keeps me awake.” 

Altaïr raised his brows. What could possibly keep awake Al Mualim’s favourite ? (And no, he was not jealous of her title ! It’s bullshit ! )

“Ask.” 

“Is it true that you’ve killed Talal ?” She looked right into his eyes -or where they should be, it was too dark for her untrained eyes to tell-. 

“How do-”

“People talks Altaïr.” She interrupted. “I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” 

He frowned. Why would she wants to know that ? 

“Yes, I did.” The steel in her eyes slightly unsettled him. “Why ?”

She ignored the question to ask her own instead. “Did he suffers ?”

“Why ?” He questioned again. His curiosity was peaked.

“It’s personal.” She defiantly answer.

“It’s not a good answer.” He replied.

“But it’s an answer and the only that you will have.” She sighed when he step in her comfort zone again in an attempt to intimidate her. “Don’t give me that look. You're not scaring me”. She added. It was a lie. A complete and utter lie of elephantine proportion. His death glare scared her -and not only her. She remembered how an assassin who tried to flirt ran away with his tail between his legs after Altaïr glared at him-. He was intense and scary but she was defiant and proud and it stopped her from backing down. 

_ Remember who you are, Sania. You’re a Saad. We don’t break, we don’t bow.  _ She could almost hear her father's voice again.

Too tired to play the game of the cat and mouse, he gave in the first.

“No, it was a clean death. He didn’t feel much.”

“A pity.” She snorted. “This bastard should have suffer as much, if not more, as he had made the others suffer.” She murmured the last part angrily to herself. 

Altaïr frowned again. How could she know that he had made people suffer ?

There was hatred and pain in her eyes. It downed on him. She have an history with Talal. She may have answers ! Or she may be a spy as well. But it was Al Mualim who brought her here and he trusted his master's judgement. 

He opened his mouth to question her when footstep echoed in the corridor. 

They froze. 

The curfew restricted them to not wander in the fortress and to not have courtesan in theirs rooms. And Altaïr was not in his master’s good grace anymore. It would be better not to be caught. 

Sania squirmed in discomfort. Altaïr was far too close, her heart was pounding fiercely against her ribcage, her nose was filled with his scent -a mix between sweat, leather and… lemon ?!- and her head was killing her. 

Nothing did go as planned. In her mind, it was far more easier: she goes in, she ask, he answer, she goes out and they both forget about it. But no, he had to be stubborn and now here they are.

It wasn’t the first time that Sania sneaked and broke the rules but usually there were no guard anywhere near her and she was outside, not inside a room where there was nearly no escape route. 

She nearly stopped breathing when the footstep reached the door. 

It stopped in front of the room. 

Her heart almost burst out of her chest, her body tensed. She was ready to throw herself through the window at any moment. 

_ Please don’t come. Please, please.  _ She mutely begged. 

She really should have stay in her room.

She exhaled when it walked away. It was far too close for her liking. 

She needed to go. Now.

Altaïr focused again on the woman squirming in his grip. He frowned. What was she trying to do ? Escaped ? That was a poor attempt. 

“I need to go.” She murmured urgently.

“No. This discussion is not finished.” He answered. 

“Yes, it is.” She raised her voice. A pause. A deep breath. “You don’t understand. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Yes, I know that.” He quietly replied. She irked him.“ But the guard has leaves. We can continue-”

“No, you don’t understand.” She cut him. “I’m not supposed to be here, in this batiment.”

“Why ?” It startled him. Like every courtesan, she should be allowed everywhere in the fortress.

“Because I’m a slave Altaïr! It may seems that I have more privilege than a courtesan but it isn't true ! When my sisters can go in Masyaf, I can't. I have no freedom.” She cried out. Her eyes watered.  _ No, stay strong !  _ She gritted her teeth. “ I’m only allowed to be in my room or in the garden ! Nowhere else.”

Her heart stopped. Did she really blurted out that ? By the stunned look on his face, she realized that she did. 

She swallowed. That was a huge mistake. She must leave.

“What-” She slipped out of his grasp and hastily left the room.

He should go after her. She have answers. But all Altaïr could was watching her leave.

_ Allah give me strength. _

Just like that, Sania clothed herself in mystery  and he is drown back to her.

He tried to confront her the next day and the day after but she was nowhere in the garden. When he started to ask around, a courtesan informed him that Sania was very ill and nobody could see her. And that all they knew.

But Altaïr knew better, she was avoiding him by faking an illness. That was clever, he grudgingly admit. He had never know someone who went at this extends to avoid him. However, it wouldn't stop him. He would obtain his answers one way or another.

 

Just when he finished his plans to sneak into her room, Rauf informed him that the master wanted Abul Nuqoud dead within the next week. 

Altaïr frowned and gritted his teeth.

It seemed that the Golden Rose will have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you have reach the end ! Congratulation !  
> Okay, so again feel free to comment, correct my mistake or leave kudos.  
> Have a nice day/evening/night !

**Author's Note:**

> Well done !  
> If you manage to read this then it means it wasn't that (was it ?).  
> You read the first part !  
> Anyway, I think that Altaïr is not the type to flirt and that how I think he would act.  
> So... Feel free to comment (or correct my mistake) or give kudo.


End file.
